|Ink Elemental Asp|
Going to tell/write a story, takes place in Golarion. Fair warning I have no experience or advanced education in writing or literature. Feel free to post comments, questions, criticisms, and what not. All I ask is that they are placed in spoilers so anyone reading the story does not have to pass walls of unrelated text.
Thanks and hopefully enjoy. :)
Making the bed, fluffing the single pillow, and picking up discarded clothes. These last three years of common and endless chores were finally coming to an end, yet not today. He would not slip, not now nor would he allow his guard to fall. Many before him did not survive and many after him would suffer that ill fate, he refused to stumble. Taking a moment to look around the single room, a luxury reserved not only for senior students but the exceptional ones at that. Everything was neat, clean, and orderly regardless of it's occupant's best efforts. He felt a tinge of pity for his replacement, it was his skill at cleaning that had granted him the post in the first place and kept him safe. Reserved by a older student enchanter for such services, few would trouble him. Not worth it for those in a position to challenge the enchanter and beyond those that could not, yet that too would end with his role. While his thoughts drifted to his fellow surviving apprentices, a shadow crossed the window. He quickly moved to the window, he saw it's source. The imps were massing on the wall, clearly plotting something for the completion of the third year class and their promotion to real studies and true students. He would have to prepare for that.
The door suddenly opened, whirling at the movement one hand was in his pocket, the other crossed the broom handle in his hand across his body. The enchanter ignored him and went to his desk, forcefully opening the drawer. Taking a quick breath to speak the password before it's ward had a chance to trigger.
"Where is it?"
He doubted the question was for him but he responded all the same.
"What do you seek Sir Barlow?"
His dark eyes looked through the neatly stacked scrolls, tossing them without regard. His pale hands moving quickly, stopping only to push a lock of brown hair from his shoulder length cut behind an ear.
"The oath scroll I got a few months ago. The one from that sickly looking necromancer from the hall of whispers for charming that tiefling guard. I can't remember his name, much less his face."
Any other day he would fish for more information, yet it was his last day. Karver Barlow was no longer his problem or guardian, at least not for longer then a few more hours.
"Third drawer on the right, fifth scroll in. If I remember correctly."
He abandoned his current drawer for the suggested one. Grabbing the scroll rather roughly he opened it, a relieved smile quickly spread over his narrow chelixian features.
He left in a rush, returned a moment later.
"Clean this all up, you can take one potion from my desk for the help and your promotion before closing it up. Good luck Bavius."
With that he was gone. Karver was many things, grateful or detailed oriented was not among them. That was only his second gift in all his years of service. He had secreted away a number of items from him during his time with the enchanter. He never spent or used these items, in case he needed to find them should they be missed. In three years none had been noticed, then again Karver had a habit of getting his hands on a number of items he clearly could not afford. Certainly he made use of his enchantment spells, if nothing else he was unusually proficient in them. Personally he found it a little disturbing, the gap was far to great even for a specialist. He shook his head, it was not his problem or business. He plucked his final prize, reordered the desk and shut it. After another sweep of the room he would be done once and for all with it.